


Almost Broken

by MaggiesAngel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, F/M, Gentle Dean Winchester, Gentle Sex, Healing, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Dean Winchester, Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 18:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggiesAngel/pseuds/MaggiesAngel
Summary: An anonymous tip to Bobby Singer sends the Winchester brothers to look into mysterious deaths in a small town, but Dean runs into an old flame; an omega who was a hunter and once offered herself to him to claim. She’s changed, barely a shadow of her old self.Bailey recognizes the Impala and knows she needs to stay away for fear of retaliation from her husband. But all she really wants is to leave with them when the older brother smells like home.





	Almost Broken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morriggann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morriggann/gifts).



> And this is gifted to Morriggann - For knowing I'd get back to finishing a story, sooner or later.
> 
> I've played with timelines, because, well, I can. Bobby's alive, but they're living at the bunker.

 

She walked out of the grocery store, arms loaded with bags and her head down as she turned and headed home. The car parked at the edge of the road stopped her in her tracks and she had to stop herself from looking for them. A ’67 Impala hardtop could mean only one thing; the Winchester brothers were here.

Bailey forced a deep breath and walked past the car quickly; she needed to get home. The police station was across the road from the grocer’s, and after the anonymous email she had sent in about the deaths around the area had obviously been forwarded to them. _Seriously, Singer? Of all the damned hunters, you had to give it to them?_ she thought to herself while she hurried on.

She had just cleared the car’s back bumper when the scents hit her; gun oil, aftershave, and the most heartbreaking, home. Bailey gritted her teeth and refused to look back while she continued on her way, even when she heard her name called.

***

Dean would have recognized her aroma anywhere, and his eyes zeroed in on her bright red curls as she walked down the sidewalk. He slapped his brother’s stomach and jogged across the street and called, “Bailey!” When she continued to walk, her gait determined, he frowned. Dean narrowed his eyes and lowered his tone when he said, “Bailey, stop.”

Her back stiffened as she froze at the command. The boys were only a few feet away and she heard their footsteps closing fast when she turned to face him. Bailey’s hand reached out and she slapped Dean hard enough her hand stung. “Don’t you _dare_ command me, Dean,” she snapped at him. “You gave up that right long ago.”

His head whipped to the side with the blow and he turned to look at her, incredulous. Bailey had already turned to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. He heard a small whimper of pain from her chest and stepped in front of her. Before Dean could speak, his eyes noted the bruises on her face; some dark black-purple, others partially healed in shades of yellow-green. “Who?” was all he managed to ground out.

Bailey tugged at her wrist, and he released her, but she shook her head up at him. “You don’t get to ask me, Dean,” she replied, voice harsh. “Like I said, you gave up that right. You’re here on a case. Solve it and go away.”

“You’re the one who reported the deaths.”

She turned to Sam as he finally spoke, and she nodded. “I’m not in a position to do anything about it anymore, but I knew it had to be stopped,” Bailey replied. She glanced around and saw people had noticed her talking to the two alphas and dropped her head in submission while she shook it. “Look, I have to go.”

“Bailey, please,” Sam said gently before she could walk away. “What do you know about the deaths?”

“I don’t think it will take you long to wrap up if you look in the right places,” she replied quickly, still avoiding their eyes. “It’s hard to get information from just what the papers publish, and I… I can’t look any further into it than that. I think it might be ghouls, but it’s definitely more than one if it is. Please, I have to go.”

Dean took her arm, felt her flinch, and he frowned. “Bailey, let us help,” he offered.

She stared at him, her jaw clenched tight. “You had the chance to help, Dean. I offered myself to you, I wanted you to claim me, and you turned me down, remember?” she growled, her voice tinged with anguish. “After you, I wasn’t given a choice in who would be my mate, and now… Now, I’m stuck. I’m expected home, and I need to get there. So, let me go.”

He pulled his hand back while Sam pulled out a business card and held it out. “If you need us, for anything, Bailey,” he offered. “You know we’ll come.”

The brothers watched her take it, then hurry off. “What do you think she meant when she said she didn’t get a choice?” Dean asked with a frown.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he replied with a frown. “But I could smell the blood near the surface of her skin, a lot of it. She has bruises all over.”

“I’ll kill him,” Dean muttered, voice drawn low as he turned to get into the car.

The younger brother followed but waited until they were seated inside. “For now, you won’t do anything,” he advised. “She’s mated, and she’s obviously known from the way people were watching us with her. This is a small town.”

“Then what the hell do we do, Sammy?” Dean demanded.

“We do the job. Then we’ll figure out what to do about Bailey,” Sam replied evenly to the anger in his voice. “Stop more people from dying first. Then we’ll decide how to help her when she doesn’t want our help.”

“I’m not leaving her in whatever situation she’s in.”

Sam looked over at his brother while they pulled into the street, heading for the hotel. “No, we’re not,” he agreed. “But one thing at a time, Dean.”

***

They changed out of their suits in the hotel room, and Dean heard his cell phone ringing from somewhere buried on his bed. After digging through the things he’d thrown over it, he pulled it out and recognized the number. “Bobby,” he greeted.

“How’s the case?”

“Did you know Bailey was here?”

Singer paused on his end of the line. “Shit,” came the response. “Should’ve known there was too much detail there; whoever it was had highlighted the right obits that only a hunter would’ve picked up on to notice a pattern.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Dean replied with a sigh. “Also, gonna guess you didn’t know her brother basically traded her off to an asshole alpha to get rid of her.”

“He _what_?” Bobby growled. “Which friggen brother? Oh wait, let me guess. Gotta be Gerry. He’s lucky he’s dead if what you’re saying is true, or I’d have skinned the sumbitch myself.”

Sam reached over and took the phone from his brother, pressed the speaker button, and frowned at Dean. “Do me a favour, Bobby. See what you can find out about Bailey since the last time we’ve seen her? It’s been nearly a decade, and she doesn’t look good. Whatever her situation is…”

“It’s bad,” Dean finished. “She’s covered in bruises.”

“Balls. All right, I’m on it. You two work the case, I’ll work on that. I’ll call when I know something.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Sam said, right before the line went dead. “This case shouldn’t take long if what Bailey said is right; hopefully he’ll find out what’s going on by the time we need information.”

*****

Bailey got home, relieved to see her mate’s car wasn’t there yet. She quickly unpacked and put away the food, before going for a shower; she could smell Dean’s scent on her skin from where he had held her wrist, and the last thing she needed was her mate to become enraged that another alpha had touched her.

By the time she emerged, Bailey checked the time and readied a roast and veggies, put them into the oven, and started to clean the house. Her stomach was knotted, her shoulders tight, while she waited. She didn’t know why but knew he would find out about today.

She heard the front door while she was getting the roast out and swallowed the lump in her throat. Bailey busied herself with readying the gravy but looked up when he reached the kitchen door. “How was work, Ethan?” she asked, voice soft.

His face was stony as he glanced around and noticed the dining table set. “Is dinner ready?”

Bailey swallowed at his carefully neutral voice and nodded. “Gravy is almost set,” she replied. “It’ll be on the table in five minutes.”

“I’ll go wash up. Get me a beer,” Ethan replied as he disappeared.

She nodded in response silently and put the food on the table. Bailey stood behind her chair and waited for his return; she knew the rules well by now. Once Ethan was sitting, she served his food, then her own, then sat. The silence was deafening, but she was terrified to break it.

Ethan cleared his plate, finished two beers, got up, and poured himself a glass of whiskey before he came back to the table to sit, then finally spoke up. “Sheriff tells me you slapped a Federal Officer today,” Ethan finally said, voice deceptively calm.

When he spoke, Bailey stopped clearing the dishes, frozen and turned to look at him, her eyes wide with fear at the anger in his own. Ethan had no way of knowing Dean and Sam weren’t real officers, and if she told him the truth, it might make the situation worse… No matter what, she was going to lose.

“You never learn, do you?” he asked as he pushed to his feet.

She dropped the dishes and ran. But she wasn’t fast enough. She was never fast enough.

*****

Bailey lay on her back in the bedroom and panted. Ethan had left for work an hour ago, but she knew he would not stay the entire day; he never did after he spent the night beating her. He would be back to continue her ‘discipline’ in a few hours, she knew.

She pushed herself to her feet, her left arm was numb, and she knew her shoulder was dislocated. She stumbled to the bathroom doorway, teeth gritted. Bailey tried to take a deep breath to brace herself, but the sharp pain that shot through her chest told her she had cracked, if not broken ribs. She clenched her jaw and grabbed the countertop before she slammed her left shoulder into the doorframe; Bailey felt the pop of the bone going back into its socket and let out a cry of pain mixed with relief.

It took concentrated effort to walk further into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. Bailey had long ago started keeping the medical supplies in the upper cupboard rather than underneath; experience taught her once she bent down, it was harder to stand back up. She taped up the deep gash just under her ribs, added tape to her forearms where she had tried to block the knife attack at first.

When she finally looked at herself in the mirror, Bailey winced; the blood vessels in her right eye were blown, so the white had bled scarlet. It had happened before, but she always hated how it looked. She looked back into the bedroom and checked the time; almost noon. Ethan would likely be home in less than an hour; it did not give her a lot of time to get dressed and get to the attic. She needed to get to her bags, her old belongings.

“C’mon,” she muttered to herself.

Bailey poured alcohol onto her wounds, then pushed off from the sink and stumbled back into the bedroom. The carpet had soaked up her blood, and she paused; she had lost a large amount and was still bleeding. She shook her head to refocus herself and struggled into pants and a tank top then grabbed a sweater. Bailey leaned against the wall and used it to help herself walk.

She had just pulled the trap door for the attic open when she heard Ethan’s car pull into the driveway. Bailey stared up. “You’ve fought vamps and werewolves; you can get up this damned ladder,” she growled at herself and pushed up the steps.

*****

Sam groaned and shook his head while he peeled off his shirt, covered in blood and other things he didn’t want to think about. “I seriously hate ghouls,” he muttered. Before he could say anything else or his brother could respond, his cell phone rang. Not recognizing the number, Sam frowned but answered. “Hello?”

“Sammy…help me…”

He straightened at her pained tone, which drew his brother’s attention. “Bailey? What’s happened?”

“Where are you?”

He pulled on a fresh shirt and motioned Dean to get into the car. “We’re on 124, just north of town,” Sam replied. When she said nothing, but he could hear the woman’s laboured breathing, Sam coaxed, “C’mon, Bailey; talk to me.”

“Come back through town, and take 187 South,” she replied, voice strangled. “You’ll find me, I promise.”

Before he could ask any other questions, she hung up. “Dammit. Back through town, 187 South,” Sam ordered his brother, who slammed on the gas. “I have no idea before you ask. But she doesn’t sound good.”

They were half-way through town when the brothers spotted the emergency vehicles; police, an ambulance, a coroner’s vehicle as well. Dean’s stomach was in knots, and he spotted the Sheriff they’d spoken to earlier. “Dammit,” he muttered and slowed, rolling down the window. “Everything all right here, Sheriff?”

“Agents, thought you were headed out of town?” the man responded.

“Had another call, needed to backtrack and head north,” Sam replied as he eyed the house. “Anything we can do to help?”

“No, no,” he replied. “That omega you saw earlier, the one who attacked you? This was her house.”

Dean’s jaw set in a firm line, the muscle in his jaw ticked at how the man described Bailey. “What happened?”

“Her mate, Ethan, always had problems bringing her to heel,” the sheriff replied with a sad shake of his head. “Tonight looks like he may have just…gone too far when he found out she assaulted an officer of the law. No sign of her body, but Ethan worked in construction; so, her body could be anywhere really. Looks like when he sobered up enough to realize what he’d done, he just couldn’t take it. Killed himself. Pity, if you ask me. Don’t know what the girl’s family was like that she never knew her place; she was a pretty little thing.”

Sam nodded but could feel the fury coming off his brother in waves as said, “Well, that is a shame to hear. Some omegas never can learn, though can they? We really do have to go, though.”

“Absolutely. Have a good night, Agents.”

Dean drove off carefully until they were out of sight and shot his brother a scathing glare. “Really?”

“You know that he was expecting us to agree, Dean,” Sam replied. “It’s a small town, with small minds; just because we know she was raised with alphas and acts like one, most people don’t, and they expect her to be submissive. You saw how she acted when we ran into her; the Bailey we knew, isn’t the one these people know. So, let’s just find her, and get her the hell away from here.”

Dean’s phone rang as he sped out of town, and he answered it impatiently. “What?”

“Well, hello to you too,” Bobby replied. “I have some information for you.”

“Not sure how much it matters now,” Dean replied while he hit speaker phone and handed the phone to his brother.

“What do you mean?” Bobby asked.

“Bailey called us for help,” Sam explained. “On our way through town, we found out her husband is dead; I figure she killed him and made it look like a suicide. But the sheriff figures that Ethan killed her first; which means that the house was a mess and probably has her blood everywhere.”

“We’re on our way to find her, but the directions were rough,” Dean added.

“Dammit,” Bobby sighed. “Not much I can add. The asshole was some business owner, had money, but a grade-A asshole, from what I could find. Would’ve controlled her with a tight-fist and wanted that quiet little omega. Wonder what promises Bailey’s brother made him when he handed her over?”

Both brothers snarled at the thought, before Sam said, “We’re getting close to where she told us she should be, Bobby. We need to go.”

“Yeah, go,” he assured. “Call me later, once you’re settled, and let me know how she is, yeah?”

“Promise, Bobby,” Sam assured.

The men rolled down the windows down when Dean turned down 187 and he slowed the car. They scanned the darkness carefully for Bailey, but they caught the scent of her blood first. Dean swerved the car to the shoulder, they pulled out flashlights and climbed down into the brush to search.

“Bailey?” Dean called before he inhaled deeply; all he could smell was blood.

Sam’s flashlight swept over the long grass, but he backtracked when he noticed a pale flash in the light. He rushed forward and dropped to his knees while he called, “Dean, I’ve got her!” When she drew away from him, he softened his voice and said, “Easy, Bailey-girl; it’s just me.”

She could barely open one of her eyes past the swelling, and she hugged her left arm with her right. “Get me out of here, Sammy,” she whispered. “Please.”

He nodded and put his flashlight in his pocket just as Dean came up behind him. When the older brother tried to reach past to lift her, the woman cowered away from him, a sound drawn deep in her chest that was a mix of pain and fear. Sam had to stop him, before saying, “Easy, Bailey. Dean can drive back to the bunker, I’ve got you, okay?”

The men waited until she nodded, though Dean gave a soft growl of protest. When Sam picked her up, he could feel blood that made every exposed inch of skin sticky; the protective side of him howled, but he tampered it down. Bailey was terrified, in pain, and neither brother knew what her husband had done to her.

Dean opened the back door, let his brother get settled with Bailey, then closed it. They were hours from the bunker, and but wanted to get there soon; she was in rough shape and needed to be tended. “Should we stop at a hotel?” he asked softly as he pulled back on the road.

Bailey shook her head against Sam’s chest, and he stroked her hair. “You’re bleeding, a lot, Bailey,” Sam reasoned softly. “We should stop to get you cleaned up, stitched up, and see what else is hurt.”

“Couple of broken ribs, busted blood vessels in my eye, and my shoulder was dislocated, but I managed to get it back in. I taped the wounds closed that should need stitches, and they’ll hold for now,” she replied, strained voice. “I don’t want to stop until I know I can rest. Please.”

The plea in her voice had the brothers sharing a look in the rear-view mirror. Dean was certain she had left things off the list of injuries, but he nodded and dug into his brother’s bag on the seat next to him. He pulled out a bottle and tossed it into the back seat. “I’ll push, Bailey, but at least take some pain meds,” Dean said softly. “Sleep, if you can.”

Sam fished out ibuprofen caplets and grabbed a water bottle from next to him. He put a few pills into her mouth, then helped her drink before he cradled her against his chest. “Dean’s right; sleep, Bailey-girl.”

She smiled slightly at the old nickname, but it hurt the swelling in her face. Bailey could feel the waves of frustration coming from the older Winchester at her rejection of him, and her easy acceptance of his brother. But Sam, because he had been mated once, felt less threatening; even though he had lost Jess, something about having been bonded before changed how he felt to her.

With Sam’s hand gently stroking her hair, Bailey pressed her forehead to his neck and let out a long breath. The pain meds slowly dulled the pain to a low ache, and she let the roar of the car’s familiar V8 lull her to sleep.

*****

Dean pulled into the bunker and rushed to open the back door. As soon as she was jostled, he heard Bailey cry out in pain, the sound making him frown. “We’re here, sweetheart,” he assured.

Sam carried her straight to one of the bedrooms and sat her on the edge of the bed. “Okay, Bailey, let’s take a look at those wounds,” he said softly.

“I can do it,” she murmured while she avoided the men’s eyes. Her entire body ached, the pain had followed her into her sleep, and even sitting was uncomfortable.

Sam shared a look with his brother as Dean walked in with a duffle bag of medical supplies, and they shared a deep frown. Sam reached down and touched her chin, pulled her eyes up to meet his. “Hey, it’s me,” he said. “I need to see how badly you’re hurt. And you _are_ going to show me, Bailey.”

“Don’t start pulling alpha crap on me, Sammy,” she muttered at him. “One, I’m too tired and sore. And for another, I’ve had more than enough of a dominance display lately, thanks.”

Dean slapped his brother on the back of the head, and Sam had the grace to look embarrassed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. But, there’s still fresh blood on your stomach, which means that you need sutures, and your hands are shaking. Please, let me do it for you?” he asked.

Bailey sighed softly but nodded, and let him help her out of her jacket, then looked down at the shirt. “Just cut it off,” she said with a frown. The fabric was soaked with blood, ruined, and no amount of washing could ever erase the memories from it. “Cut it off, and burn it, Sammy.”

The sound of a knife being pulled from a sheath made her pause, and her eyes flicked up to Dean, who had pulled out his hunting knife from where he’d laid everything he’d brought in from the car. Bailey’s eyes focussed on the knife as he brought it close and handed it to his brother, but her breathing continued to increase as her eyes stayed glued to the blade.

“Sweetheart,” Dean said softly. He waited until she finally looked at him, but stayed farther back, considering how she’d been reacting to him. “We will never hurt you, you know that, right?”

Bailey nodded and swallowed hard. “I know,” she murmured. “I do know that. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Sam assured her. He reached for her shirt and asked, “Are you ready?”

Bailey nodded and braced herself, the sound of the knife as it sliced made her shudder. She closed her eyes and turned her face away; she knew how bad she looked. Covered in bruises, her ribcage was nearly black over the broken ones, her skin swollen, and the slashes into her skin were deep; they still seeped blood.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled before he disappeared through a side door.

Sam heard her whimper, and said, “He’s just gone for a basin of water, Bailey, and the disinfectant.” The younger brother set her shirt aside, and laid the blade down on the mattress, while he inspected her wounds and carefully removed the tape which barely stuck anymore. “He’s not angry; neither of us are.” He watched while Bailey nodded slightly, and Dean came back into the room, set down the supplies. “Will you tell us?”

She knew the question would come eventually and met their eyes briefly before she stared down at her lap. “I ended up with most of my family killed in the life; I don’t know if you’d heard that,” Bailey explained softly. She had met the Winchesters while hunting and been raised by a family that consisted entirely of alphas; four siblings and her parents. She was the only omega in the Mitchell family, which was rare in bloodlines, and most families did not train them to hunt. Her father had raised her as if she was another alpha; bold, and to take no shit. Her one brother, Gerry, hated it, but the rest had no issue; neither did the Winchesters and most other hunters. Though rare for an omega to hunt, she was damned good at it. “I was left with Gerry.”

“Bobby was right,” Dean whispered. “Shit.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Bailey agreed. She felt tears threatening and swallowed the lump in her throat. She glanced at Dean, then down at the wound Sam started to stitch closed as she continued. “After you… After, Gerry didn’t want to be left looking after an omega. So, when someone offered for me, he said yes without hesitation.”

“He didn’t have to _look after_ you at all,” Sam muttered.

“He always hated that I was in the life, Sam,” she replied. “And he wanted to get rid of me.”

“So that’s how you ended up with…Ethan?” Dean asked, voice dark when he mentioned her husband.

“How did you know his name?”

Sam frowned when she flinched at the mention of her mate’s name but continued to work steadily suturing the wound while he answered. “When we were driving back through town, we saw the Sheriff we had spoken to while on the case and all the emergency vehicles at…your house. He happened to mention his name while telling us he’d killed himself after he’d killed you.”

Bailey snorted humourlessly and watched him tie off the knot before he moved to another wound. A few tears fell, and she wiped them gently. The rest of the time Sam treated her was spent in silence. Before he could bandage them, she said, “I need to shower first, Sammy; there’s too much blood…everywhere.”

“Heat of the shower will bring the bruises to the surface, Bailey; make them hurt even more,” Dean advised softly.

“I know,” she replied with a small nod. “Been there far too often, remember? But I still need to clean off the blood.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’m guessing you left without any clothes?” he asked gently. When Bailey shook her head, Sam sighed. “I’ll see if we have anything you can wear for now, until we can get you some, okay? This is the only bedroom with a bathroom attached; I thought you’d prefer the privacy.”

“I’ll grab some soap and shampoo, just give me a minute,” Dean added and disappeared.

When he came back, his arms were filled with bottles, towels, washcloths, and a robe. “For now,” he said, “This should all work. Need anything else, just yell.”

Bailey nodded while he set everything in the bathroom and came back out before she pushed to her feet unsteadily. “Thank you,” she murmured and disappeared inside. Once she was certain the water was comfortable, she climbed inside and watched as it ran red down the drain, rinsed all the blood from her body and scalp. Bailey felt the tears, and she sobbed; this wasn’t her first kill, wasn’t even her twentieth. But Ethan had abused her for years, used her body, tried to break her; she wasn’t sure he hadn’t succeeded. And now that she was here with the Winchesters, Bailey didn’t know what to do.

She washed carefully, her body ached with the effort, and she found a large raised area on her head from where he had thrown her into a wall. When she finally shut off the water, she dried off and stared at herself in the mirror for a long while, her gaze dead while she wondered what she was supposed to do now.

Wrapped in the robe, she emerged into the bedroom to find Dean there with the med kit; Sam was nowhere to be found. Bailey paused.

“Sammy went on a food and clothes run,” Dean explained.

She glanced around, found a clock and frowned heavily. “It’s not even close to dawn. Where would he even think of finding clothes?”

“There’s a multimart not far; got a little of everything,” he replied with an easy shrug. “I wasn’t sure if you could bandage everything on your own, so thought I’d offer to give you a hand if you needed it.” When she stayed standing where she was, Dean stood slowly and made his way over to her but was careful not to crowd her. “Bailey, I don’t know what he did to you, but I could never hurt you.”

“Not physically, at least,” she muttered. She watched the guilt flash across his face and shook her head. “I don’t blame you for how my life turned out, Dean, but I… I thought I meant something to you back then, or I would never have offered myself to you.”

“You did, Bailey,” he replied fiercely. “You still do.”

“But not enough to claim me,” she countered. “I wasn’t expecting a white picket house and kids, Dean. I get it, it wasn’t how our lives end up, not as hunters. I just thought I could hunt with you, instead of my family.” Bailey tried to hug herself, but the wounds on her forearms ached. She settled for just staring up at him. “I’m not exactly your typical omega, but you, Sam, Bobby…none of you cared. Everyone else did. So, when I had to deal with the rest of society, things got… We don’t exactly live normal lives, do we?”

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed softly. Dean watched as she struggled to find something to do with her hands. “Let me bandage your wounds, Bailey. And when’s the last time you ate?”

She sat down and carefully arranged the robe to bare when he needed so he could cover the sutures and tape over them with gauze, while she answered his question. “I had a bit of dinner, but…” Her voice died off and she averted her gaze. “It didn’t stay down long.”

“I can probably make up some sandwiches in the kitchen, bring them back,” Dean offered gently while he wrapped gauze bandages around her forearms. “You should get some rest; you look exhausted.”

“It’s, what? Almost morning, Dean; you and Sammy must be exhausted too,” she replied. “He really didn’t have to go out right away. I could’ve made do with old t-shirts and sweats.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s what he does, you know that. And we’re used to pulling all-nighters in this line of work. We’ll just crash tonight, that’s all.”

Bailey reached up and rubbed at the goose egg on her head, drew his attention to it. She winced as his fingers explored her scalp gently but stayed still and let him examine the injury until he sat back. “I’ve had worse from hunts; it’s just giving me a headache,” she said softly.

Dean frowned slightly at her but nodded. “Yeah; you need to lay down, I’ll make food and bring it back,” he said. She crawled under the covers, kept the robe wrapped around her, and he pulled the covers up. Dean grabbed a bottle of pain meds and handed it to her while he disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a glass of water. “Take these, I won’t be long.”

She swallowed a few of the pills and finished the water gratefully while watching him go. After setting the glass aside, she pulled the robe tighter around her body. Bailey knew it was one of Dean’s, not Sam’s, or it would have trailed behind her on the floor from the younger brother’s massive height. She took a deep breath, drew in Dean’s scent, and could not fight the small smile that curled her lips; despite everything, he still smelled like home.

Bailey could feel the muscles in her body twitch while her body worked at healing her injuries. She closed her eyes and tried to relax into the mattress.

By the time he returned, Dean noticed Bailey’s head had rolled to the side on the pillows; her breathing was uneven while her body twitched, but she was definitely asleep. He frowned and looked down at the food in his hands with a sigh. He stored the apple he had grabbed for her and one of the bottles of water in the mini-fridge and sat with the sandwiches and another bottle in one of the two leather chairs. While she had slept in the car, the brothers had agreed; Bailey wasn’t to be left alone until she was settled and knew for certain where she was. He lifted one of the sandwiches and smiled while his stomach grumbled; wasn’t exactly breakfast time, but he wasn’t going to complain.

*****

Dean watched as she stirred; Sam had come back with bags of clothes and set them inside the door, but Bailey had slept through it. Dean had gone and slept for a few hours at that point while his brother had kept an eye on her but was back now. It was nearly five in the afternoon, and she had slept solidly through most of the day. He watched her stir under the covers, heard her moan, and Dean narrowed his eyes.

He leaned forward and breathed deeply through his nose, scented the air and frowned; her body was healing, and he could smell that her blood had already started to replenish its supply. Dean approached the bed slowly, but before he reached the edge, Bailey sat up with a gasp and pulled herself up to the headboard, shrieking in terror. Her abdomen screamed in protest between her stitches pulling and her broken ribs, but she needed to escape the figure that was approaching her, despite the pain.

He quickly sat on the edge, held out his hands, and spoke gently. “Bailey. Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Dean,” he insisted.

Her eyes came into focus on his face, and she slapped her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” he replied with a chuckle. “I think you’re allowed a few nightmares at this point.” He watched her hold her abdomen, and asked, “Did you pull your stitches?”

“No, just pulled at them,” she assured and let out a steadying breath. Bailey looked around and her eyes found the clock on the side table. “You have to be exhausted, Dean. I’ll be alright,” she assured him.

“I caught a few hours this morning when Sammy got back.”

“But still, I don’t need a babysitter. I promise,” she insisted. “Go on.”

“Okay, I’ll go, but only if you promise me to eat something,” he replied and narrowed his eyes at her. “It’s been an entire day, and you haven’t had anything. You’re healing, and quickly, but you still need food.”

She looked down to see the bruises already starting to lighten, as he said, and she gave a rueful smile. “The joys of being an omega; we’re made to take punishments, recover quickly, and keep on going,” she muttered. “Just call me the Energizer Bunny.”

Dean didn't smile. He touched her chin and forced her to meet his gaze when he heard the bitter tone in her voice. “But that’s not all you are, Bailey.”

She gave a small nod. “Go, get some more sleep, and I promise I’ll eat. You just need to tell me how to find the kitchen in this maze; I don’t remember a lot from Sam carrying me in here, but it seemed…big.”

“That it is,” Dean agreed. He gave her a quick rundown of how to find the kitchen and library before he stood. “If you need anything, just yell. Either me or Sammy will hear you, I can promise you that.”

She nodded in response and watched him go before she moved. Bailey had no doubt both alphas would be tuned in to her presence in the bunker. She dressed and went to the kitchen, made a sandwich, stopped by the library, and grabbed a book on the way back to her room.

Bailey ate half of the sandwich, even though she was not remotely hungry; she knew Dean was right and she needed to eat. Curled up in a leather chair, she started to read, but exhaustion took over. Why she was so incredibly tired, she didn’t understand, but still set the book aside and dozed off.

*****

Unaware of what woke her, Bailey felt like her skin was on fire when she opened her eyes. She looked at the clock, saw it was late, and hoped the brothers were asleep because she knew one thing; the hormone suppressants her husband had forced her to take for years had worn out of her system, and her first heat in almost eight years had arrived. _Oh, this is going to be bad,_ she thought to herself.

Already, Bailey could feel herself growing wet for the first time in memory. She bit her lip and knew she couldn’t see the Winchesters like this. She changed into leggings and jeans in the hope they would help mask her scent and pulled on a heavy sweater before she ran to the kitchen for supplies.

Raiding the cupboards and fridge, Bailey grabbed fruit, protein drinks she was thankful health-nut Sam always kept on hand, water bottles, some bagels, leftover cooked chicken, and decided that would have to do. She stopped in the library and picked a few books that, if she had the concentration, looked interesting, before she made her way back to her room. Bailey locked the door, though she knew that would not stop either of the brothers if they wanted in, and she rolled a blanket and lined the bottom of the door with it.

She packed the small mini-fridge with the food she had brought back and stared around the room. Sam had brought a laptop for her, so at least she had entertainment, Bailey realized, but she had no idea how long this would last. A wave of arousal ran through her, a cramp hit her stomach hard, and she groaned; a shower would help hide her scent from the brothers, and the heat would help the pain, she decided.

She took off the jeans but left the sports bra and leggings on as she crawled under the running water and sat under its spray. Bailey forgot what being in heat felt like; her skin was crawling, she wanted to be touched. She wanted to find Dean and let him knot her like they did when they were younger. But after everything Ethan had done to her… Bailey’s her stomach clenched in fear while she started to hyperventilate; though her body craved touch, she was terrified to let anyone close enough to try.

*****

Sam made his way toward the kitchen and froze. His nostrils flared, and a low growl came from deep in his chest when he realized what he could smell in the air. He turned and followed towards the library, then to Bailey’s room, before he sighed; he could hear the shower running inside, along with her panicked breathing.

He pulled the lockpick kit from his pocket and easily cracked her door, opened it carefully, and was quickly overwhelmed by her scent. Sam noticed the blanket she had put down and smiled slightly before he made his way to the bathroom door that she had left open, where he paused in the entryway. “Bailey-girl?” She half-screamed, half-whimpered in fear, and Sam crouched in the doorway without approaching. “What can I do?”

Bailey ran her hands over her soaked hair and locked her fingers behind her neck. “I don’t know,” she whispered. Her eyes flicked up to his face to see that though his pupils were blown wide, his face was sympathetic. The sound of the water, her own scent overwhelmed her, and she didn’t hear soft footfalls behind him in the other room. “Sammy, he had me on hormone suppressants for so long; this is my first heat since I was married.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he heard his brother’s surprised breath from behind him but didn’t turn. “You’re kidding?” Sam asked. When she shook her head, he frowned. “You mean, Ethan hasn’t… You have a claiming bite, Bailey, but did he never make good on the claim?” He watched as she closed in on herself; hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them, her eyes rolled up so she could see him still.

“He’d knot me whenever he wanted,” she whispered.

Sam stood in a swift move, watched as she flinched in response, but the fury that filled him was echoed in Dean’s growl behind him. “With the suppressants, your body wouldn’t…”

“I was dry, and he didn’t care,” Bailey confirmed hoarsely and dropped her eyes. She heard a second, enraged growl from her room, and suddenly, smelled Dean; that unique scent that was all him, and her body throbbed in response.

“Oh, Bailey,” Sam breathed in sympathy. Hormone suppressants were usually used on omegas to keep heats at bay, yes; but it also meant their bodies never became physically aroused. No natural lubricant for sex and her husband still forced her to have sex… Sam wanted to kill the man, knew he and Dean would have been headed back to do just that if she hadn’t already done it. “I’m so sorry.”

Dean worked hard to calm himself after her revelations so that he could see her and not lose control. He did not want to frighten her before he stepped into the doorway of her bathroom. When Dean finally saw her, Bailey seemed so small, curled up in the tub with the water cascading over her. He glanced at his brother before he spoke. “Sweetheart, let me help.”

“I’m scared,” she replied in a whisper.

The brothers shared a look, before Sam said, “I won’t be far if you need me.”

Dean watched him close the main door then crouched next to the tub and turned off the water. She watched him with wide eyes, and Dean could hear her ragged breathing as he reached out to tuck some of her curls behind an ear. “I’m not going to hurt you, Bailey,” he whispered. “I should never have let you go.”

With the water stopped, her wet clothing stuck to her and in the cool air of the bathroom, Bailey started to shiver.

“Let’s get you out of there, yeah?” he asked. Dean grabbed a towel to wrap around her hair before he leaned forward and picked her up carefully, carried her into the bedroom and set her on her feet next to the bed. He grabbed a soft blanket and to dry her before he tilted her face up, his lips hovered over her own. “We both know what you need, sweetheart. But you’re gonna be the one to do this, okay?” When Bailey nodded slightly, he smiled and cupped her cheek. “But first, you’re gonna freeze in those clothes, so we need to peel you out of them.”

Bailey braced her hands on his chest and raised onto her toes to brush her lips against his. They were just like she remembered, but she pulled back and rested her forehead against his chin. She wrung out her hair as best she could and tossed the towel aside, her wet curls fell down around her shoulders. Her hands moved to the sports bra, but it was almost glued to her skin, which felt sensitive and throbbed. “Help me,” she whispered when she fumbled with trying to drag it upward.

Dean ran his hands under the fabric and pulled it over her head. The sight of so many new scars forced him to tamper down a growl; she looked as bad or worse than if she had been hunting all this time. When her hands ran under his own shirt, sought out his bare skin, it brought a smile to his face. He tossed his flannel shirt to the floor, his t-shirt followed directly after.

She turned in his arms, then pulled him tight against her back to wrap herself in his scent and warmth. Bailey struggled to peel the leggings off her body until she wore nothing, then reached back and worked at the belt on his jeans.

Dean stilled her hands and turned her to face him. He wrapped Bailey in the blanket and picked her up, laid her in the middle of the bed, then stepped back and stared at her. He stripped off the rest of his clothes and crawled onto the bed next to her, stretched out on his side.

Bailey stared at him; her mind was growing hazy with need as her heat grew stronger. The blanket rubbed at her skin, irritated her, and she threw it off and leaned over his body to run her hands across his chest, explore his scars. She licked his tattoo before his hand wove into her curls and brought her face up to meet his. Bailey swung a leg over his waist to straddled him, her mouth still hovered over his and she licked her lips, her tongue touched his while she did. “I’m still… Dean, I haven’t seen a doctor to know if there’s any scarring…” Her voice died off and she closed her eyes in shame.

Dean brought both hands to cup her cheeks and stroked her face with his thumbs. He soothed her before he bent up and kissed her gently. “Your pace, sweetheart,” he reminded. “It’s all you; when your heat is finished, we’ll get you properly looked after, I promise. But for now, let’s just take care of you.”

Bailey leaned back down to kiss him again, moaned into his lips as her tongue sought out his; he was wicked with his mouth. She felt his hands as they skimmed down her sides gently, one stopped to cup her breast. She pressed farther into that hand, while the other continued down to her hip, and lower; his fingers ran between her folds and found her wet.

He groaned into her mouth and grazed his thumb over her clit, felt her shudder above him, while he slid a finger slowly inside her body. She stilled, and Dean drew back and watched her eyes close tightly. Her body clenched around his finger, and she rotated her hips against him, which made him grin. “Doing real good there, sweetheart,” he praised.

His approval made her glow, and she ground down onto him and licked her lips. “Try another,” she whispered.

Dean cupped her face and stroked her cheek, watched her reactions while he slid a second finger inside her body. Her juices coated his fingers and made him groan, and he could hear her panting above him. He stroked her clit with his thumb, heard her pleasured whimper while his fingers stroked her from the inside as well.

He watched her frown, even though he could feel her clench around his fingers while he continued to rub her the way he remembered she liked. “C’mon, sweetheart,” Dean urged. “You’re close, aren’t you?” He pressed another finger inside and curled all three up to stroke her g-spot at the same time he rubbed her clit.

Bailey cried out when her orgasm hit her. She dug her fingers into his shoulder and sought out his lips. Soft, contented sounds worked from her chest as she kissed him slowly; his fingers finally pulled free of her with a wet sound.

Dean drew back so he could suck his fingers clean and watched as she flushed. He chuckled and shook his head at her. “After everything we’ve done together, how can that embarrass you?”

“It’s been a while, Dean,” she reminded him. “And I’ve been through a lot… I’m sorry…”

The hand that had been cupping her face, he brought down to cover her lips while he shushed her. “You never have to apologize, Bailey. Not to me, not ever. You got that?”

The low growl in his voice brought out another wave of arousal; her heat wouldn’t be appeased with a single orgasm. Bailey reached back to guide him, and slowly slid back down onto his length. Though she was wet enough, she panted through the fear of pain; it had been years since she had found any pleasure in sex. She could feel Dean’s body underneath her; he vibrated with the need to take over but kept true to his word and let her take control. Bailey worked her hips slowly, her body opened up until her pelvis sat snugly against his. A sigh of relief worked its way out of her chest; when she heard it echoed from Dean, she stared down at him and smiled softly. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Sweetheart, having you over me isn’t exactly a hardship,” he replied with a wide smile. His hands spanned her hips and ran down her thighs while he bit his lower lip. “Forgot how good you look up there.”

“How about when I do this?” she teased and rotated her hips in a circle. Bailey closed her eyes before she rose on her knees and started riding him. Her body accepted him gladly, remembered the feel of him thrusting deep; she felt another surge of wetness between her legs and she heard Dean groan.

Bailey braced her hands on his chest and started riding him harder, bent down to kiss and bite at his mouth. Sweat trailed down her back and she whimpered, pulled back and shook her head down at him. “Dean, please…”

“What do you need, Bailey?”

“I need… I need harder,” she breathed.

Dean wrapped his arms around her and brought her lips down to thrust his tongue into her mouth again, while he rolled them over. He kept her mouth captive while he withdrew from her body and thrust back in hard and fast.

Bailey drew her nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and he drew back to check, but she gripped his hair. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he growled into her mouth.

Dean took her thighs and hooked them over his hips and continued to drive into her; he could feel his knot starting to catch every time he pulled out. His eyes stared down at the faint scars on her neck, Ethan’s claim, and a possessive growl fell from his lips.

Bailey could feel his knot forming and her hips arched higher; she ached to have him buried deep. When the snarl exploded from him, she looked up and knew where his eyes were focussed. Though he had rejected her before, his words floated through her mind; _I should never have let you go_. Bailey tilted her head, bared her neck in open invitation, as she felt his hand reach between them. It took only a few strokes for her orgasm to crest, and she screamed his name.

His knot was right at the edge of her body. Dean withdrew fully and with a grunt and push, he was completely embedded deeply inside her. He shuddered and rocked his hips, his own orgasm locking them together. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” he breathed in her ear.

“I’ve always been yours,” Bailey replied and ran her hands down his back.

Dean nuzzled her jaw and his hand stroked her again. He built up her pleasure quickly and continued to roll his hips. Just as she hit her peak, Dean bit over Ethan’s fading mark, replaced it with is own claim. The taste of her blood filled his mouth, and his possessive side swelled.

Bailey locked her legs behind his waist to keep Dean where he was and let out a contented sigh. She felt sated, for now, but knew it wouldn’t likely last for long. Especially since she hadn’t had a heat in so long; but for now, she just embraced the calm feeling that spread through her body.

“Why don’t you let me roll us over, Bailey?” Dean asked. He nuzzled her cheek as he pulled back to see her face. “We’re gonna be locked together for a while, sweetheart; can’t be comfortable with the bruises you have, to have my weight on top of you.” He watched the small flash of fear that passed through her eyes, and his eyes narrowed. “What did he used to do?”

She shivered underneath him, and Bailey pulled his body closer for his warmth, but she stared at his chin as she spoke. “You heard me say that I was… I was dry,” she whispered, voice hoarse. When she saw his nod, Bailey swallowed and closed her eyes. “He wouldn’t wait for his knot to go down before he’d...leave.”

Dean watched the tears form under her lashes and couldn’t imagine the pain she’d been through; her husband had raped her and abused her at every turn, and the sheriff they’d spoken to had placed all the blame on Bailey herself for not being submissive enough. “He should’ve suffered more before you killed him,” he muttered, voice drawn deep with fury. “I would’ve ripped off his balls and fed them to him before I pulled out his heart.”

Bailey snickered suddenly at the at the thought and opened her eyes; the tears fell but he wiped them gently. “I would’ve liked to have seen that, actually,” she said with a laugh.

“You know I couldn’t do that, right, Bailey?” he asked. When she nodded, he offered a small smile. “Then let me roll us, so you’re more comfortable, okay?”

She unlocked her ankles from behind his back and let him settle her onto his chest once he was on his back. Bailey felt a blanket a blanket drawn up over her body and she settled her chin on his chest. “What do we do now, Dean?”

“What we should’ve done a decade ago if I hadn’t been so damned stupid and stubborn,” he replied with a rueful smile. “We hunt, together. Might take you a bit to get back in the game; it’s been a little while, but Sammy and I can catch you back up. Or, if you don’t want that, you stick to research and hold down the fort here at the bunker. Your call, Bailey. But I’m not walking away from you this time.”

“I think if you tried, I might have to tackle your ass,” she replied with a grin.

“That sounds like an awful good time.”

Bailey narrowed her eyes. “Let’s save it for my training instead, huh?”

 


End file.
